


Strangeness and Charm

by marmorashadows (orphan_account)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bad dates, Cats, Choking, Curses, Dreams, Familiars, First Dates, First Kiss, Fluff, Football, Goth!Keith, Hallucinations, High School Drama, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Magic, Motorcycles, Nightmares, Rumors, Spells & Enchantments, Talking Animals, Wishes, Witch Curses, Witch Hunters, Witchcraft, Witches, keith gave head to a few guys and it's lightly referenced, think sabrina the teenage witch but like more goth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-26 03:59:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14393829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/marmorashadows
Summary: Takashi Shirogane is perfect – Garrison High's golden boy, quarterback, hockey captain, straight A's in every subject, and with the most perfect smile on the West coast.Keith Kogane isnot– not the golden boy, not into athletics, and not really into smiling. Keith likes the color black, his cat, and motorcycles.Keith Kogane is madly in love with Garrison High's golden boy.Keith Kogane is also a witch.-- The witch au no one asked for but here we are.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tatterwitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatterwitch/gifts).



> I saw this super cute art on tumblr by [beau-mb](http://beau-mb.tumblr.com/) of witch Keith and Shiro being afraid of heights. The art is [here](http://beau-mb.tumblr.com/post/151338766418/inktober-day-3-im-a-day-behind-rip-witchkeith) if you want to view it - warning, your teeth will rot out, it's that cute... anyway, it sparked an idea in my head for a witch au, so here we are. 
> 
> To tide you all over whilst I furiously write my bang fics.

Living in a small desert town was not the glamorous, golden picture Hollywood enjoyed painting in every romcom. The town, once full of culture and life, quickly turned gentrified and painstakingly  _ white _ . Keith missed the days he could walk down the sidewalk from his uncle’s store and taste five different kinds of food from five separate cultures. He’d sampled food from China, Japan, Hungary, and Austria in one walk.

The town, however, had changed over the years. Where once stood three small shops selling various homemade goods, now stood a Walmart. Keith detested large chain stores because of their ammonia soaked floors and their poorly paid zombies they call employees. The town’s economy continued to suffer, and Keith placed blame on black suit and tie corporate America. 

“You take your fifteen yet?” Kolivan asked when he rounded the corner carrying a large box marked  _ fragile _ .

“Nope,” Keith replied and continued to flip through his shiny magazine littered with colorful photos of motorcycles straight out of Keith’s wet dreams. 

“Take your fifteen, damn it. I told you that ten minutes ago.”

Keith shrugged one shoulder callously and felt his shirt shift. The collar slipped down to expose the freckled skin there but Keith didn’t bother to fix it. “There’s no one in here. Hasn’t been for hours. I’m good.”

“It’s the  _ law _ that you take your break. Clock out.”

Keith rolled his eyes but he spun around on his stool to punch in and out as told. Kolivan took everything so seriously. “Hey, what’s the likelihood you’ll get me one of these for my eighteenth birthday?” 

Kolivan leaned over to look at Keith’s magazine in question and squinted. The look made him seem less intimidating since it pinched the scar along his right eye. “I’d say a very low percentage, probably more heavily like a no.”

A stereotypical teenage groan escaped Keith’s mouth and he rolled his eyes dramatically. Lance would have been proud. “Why not?”

“They cost a fortune and they’re metal death traps. One bad turn and they’ll have to scrape you off of the highway with an industrial spatula.” Kolivan wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “No motorcycles.”

Keith rolled his eyes again but only when Kolivan turned his back. He stared longingly at the red Ducati and wished one would just appear on the sidewalk for him to take home. They weren’t made of money and Keith knew he would never have something this expensive and nice. Not without a bit of magic.

Or a miracle.

The roaring sound of a motorcycle engine made Keith’s eyes snap to the storefront window and widen in surprise when he saw a motorcycle pull into a parking spot between two other vehicles. It wasn’t red but he could tell from the design it was most definitely a Ducati. 

“No way,” Keith said in disbelief. “No  _ fucking  _ way.”

“Hm?” Kolivan asked but didn’t turn around. 

“ _ Look _ .” Keith pointed to the motorcycle and the guy slowly climbing off of it. 

Kolivan frowned and turned to look over his shoulder. His eyes widened at the image of a man in a leather jacket, dusty jeans, and a black helmet walked into the shop. It was like he’d seen a ghost but then the man removed his helmet revealing an undercut and shaggy black hair on top of his head with an easy, charming smile. Kolivan’s face cleared from surprised to neutral. 

Keith recognized the guy from school but he’d never realized Shirogane drove a motorcycle. “Hey,” Keith said slowly. “What are you doing here?” 

Takashi Shirogane: quarterback, hockey captain, straight-A student, number one in the senior class, Garrison High’s golden boy. 

Keith Kogane: weird, goth freak with a penchant for charcoal covered fingertips. 

They didn’t exactly cross paths much. 

“I don’t know,” Shiro said with a laugh. “I was just cruising and all of a sudden I got this like…  _ urge _ to stop and come in here. I know that sounds weird, sorry.” An easy smile pulled Shiro’s perfect, cupid’s bow lips back to reveal dazzling white teeth. God, Shiro really was perfect. 

“It’s okay,” Keith said but Kolivan frowned and stepped up to the counter to stand beside where Keith sat on a stool. 

“Do you need something?” Kolivan asked, his voice surprisingly clipped. Keith had never known Kolivan to be short with any potential customer. 

“I’m not sure,” Shiro continued slowly as if he were confused. “What exactly do you sell here?” 

Keith cast Kolivan a look and then hopped off of his stool to come from around the counter. “We sell lots of herbs and spices and other home things. Candles, um, bath salts.” 

“Oh.” Shiro slowly turned in a circle to look around the small little shop Kolivan ran with his partner Ulaz. Keith helped during the summer and on the weekends when he wasn’t busy with school work. Today was a non-busy day, even though more than anything, Keith simply wanted to have friends so he could get out from under his uncle’s noses all the time. 

“Do you want to look around?” Keith asked. He was doing his best  _ not _ to stare openly at Shiro but Shiro was  _ here _ standing in the shop his uncle’s owned and operated. Besides seeing Shiro occasionally in the hallway and having one class together, they hardly ever crossed paths. They walked within two different worlds at school – Shiro was popular and smart. Keith was an outcast because he liked the color black and he excelled in the arts versus athletics.

“Yeah, I think I will…. Can’t believe I’ve never been in here.” Shiro gave him another sheepish smile before walking the little rows of baskets and displays. 

“Keith,” Kolivan said quietly, making Keith turn to face him. “Who is that boy?”

“Takashi Shirogane. He goes to my school…  _ Don’t _ embarrass me, he has the power to  _ ruin _ my entire life, okay? He’s the most popular guy in my class and the entire school…  _ Please _ , don’t embarrass me.” Keith stared up at Kolivan with wide, pleading eyes. Of all the things Kolivan did, he was excellent at accidentally humiliating Keith in public.

Kolivan’s lips formed a thin line and he grunted in response. “Going to the back… Don’t let him leave here without buying something. I have to make a phone call.” 

“Whatever.” Keith rolled his eyes after Kolivan walked into the back office. 

Shiro was still meandering throughout the shop, fixated on a group of rocks and crystals they had for sale. Keith loved hiking in the desert and coming back with fun trinkets. Kolivan let him keep any of the profits from the sales of anything Keith brought into the shop to sell. 

“You like those?” he asked as he walked up to where Shiro stood in the back corner. Keith had even drawn up the little signs for his display and had spent days arranging everything until he was happy with the aesthetic. Everything about Keith existed within aesthetics – his wardrobe, his attitude, his penchant to smoke clove cigarettes, and his desire to be as uncaring and cool as possible. 

“They’re neat,” Shiro admitted as he reached to pick up an arrowhead wrapped in a rough, leather cord. “This is cool. How much? Oh–.” Shiro blushed when he saw the price was written on a handmade tag Keith had drawn up for the piece. “I’ll take this.” 

“You don’t  _ have _ to buy anything,” Keith pointed out and then mentally kicked himself. His display hardly sold anything, unlike Kolivan’s bath salts and Ulaz’s herbs, and here he was about to make a sale.  _ Never say no to a sale _ , Kolivan would tell him firmly and repeatedly.

“No, I want to. This is cool.” Shiro turned and they almost collided, Keith realized in hindsight he was standing much too close. “Whoa, sorry.”

Keith took a quick step back to put physical space between them. “It’s alright,” he replied quietly. “It’s my fault… I’ll, um, check you out– I mean, not– not  _ check _ you out. Just…. Just follow me.” 

A soft laugh left Shiro’s lips and Keith walked back to the register with a chip as big as the Eiffel tower on his shoulder. Clearly, he didn’t need Kolivan to embarrass himself and be completely asinine in one fell swoop. Shiro set the necklace down on the counter and drummed his fingers casually, still turning his head every which way to look around. He’d never seen someone so fascinated by their shop before, and they usually attracted the strangest inhabitants of their little desert town.

“Cash or… or credit?” Keith asked slowly, trying to draw Shiro’s attention again. 

“Oh.” Shiro grinned and fumbled for his wallet to lay down a crisp twenty. “Hey, I know you from somewhere, right?” 

Keith slid the twenty into the till and began to count out Shiro’s change. Normally, Keith despised running the register and he would move quickly to usher people along so he didn’t have to to make small talk. Now that Shiro stood here, talking to him, he moved as slowly as possible to make Shiro linger just a little longer.

“We go to school together,” Keith replied and handed over Shiro’s change at last. In fact, they’d gone to school together since Keith had moved out here in middle school. 

“ _ Right _ . Keith, right? That’s your name? Keith?” 

Shiro knew his name – that was surprising and impressive since Keith mostly spent his life on the fringes of the school’s social stratosphere. He’d had a few classes with Shiro over the years but they’d quickly parted ways once their feet touched the hallowed halls of Garrison High. As far as Keith knew, they had no similar interests but he’d also never expected to see Takashi Shirogane on a motorcycle either.

Perhaps, they had more in common than Keith originally thought. 

“Yeah, that’s my name,” Keith said. “Keith Kogane.” 

Shiro picked up the necklace and slid it over his neck. The arrowhead’s shiny coating seemed to make it pulse and for a moment Keith thought it pulsed with the hammering of his heart. He had to blink a few times to stop his mind from playing tricks on him. 

“I’m Shiro. It’s nice to meet you.” Another smile filled Shiro’s face and Keith liked how much Shiro smiled. He was so easy and kind, especially in comparison to his social status. 

“I know who you are,” Keith replied quickly. “Think everyone does.” 

The perfectly plastered smile faltered and a scarlet blush darkened Shiro’s sharp cheeks. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. I always forget how many people know who I am… which is stupid, I guess.” He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry… Um, I guess I should go……  _ Hey _ , are you going to the game on Friday?” 

“The game?”

“The football game? You should come, I’d love to see you there.” Shiro leaned against the counter and having Shiro so close allowed Keith to notice his gray eyes were flecked with blue and black. The color was so beautiful, Keith couldn’t place his finger on the proper name of the hue.  _ It doesn’t exist in nature, just on him _ . On top of his eye color being unfalteringly intense, Shiro smelled good with the scent of a woodsy, pleasant cologne. Everything about Shiro made Keith’s knees weak. 

“You want me to come to the football game on Friday?” Lance was going to have a fucking field day. 

“Yeah? Please?” Shiro’s breath felt like cool mint along his cheeks. 

Keith heard himself say yes before being able to really process the request. Shiro’s smile returned and he finally pulled himself out of Keith’s orbit and headed for the shop’s door.

“Great, see you on Friday then, Keith. I’m number 12.”

“See you…”

The door chimed and then Shiro was free of the shop’s confines and Keith could finally breathe again. In his wake, Shiro left the smell of a woodsy and minty concoction Keith wished he could bottle and spray all over his clothes and room. He wanted to live within the scent until it choked and knocked him completely unconscious. Only after he stared dreamily into the space Shiro once occupied did he realize Shiro had asked  _ him _ to come to the Friday night football game because he’d wanted him there.

Ritualistic teenage pastimes filled with bad hot dogs, stale nachos, and screaming, tenacious fans were not how Keith liked to fill his Fridays. No matter how many times Lance attempted to drag him out of his house and back to campus every Friday night during football season. Four years later and Keith was finally going to a football game because the quarterback had  _ asked _ him to show.

Lance was going to either laugh or kill him. 

“He’s gone?” Kolivan asked as he suddenly appeared behind Keith making Keith startle so badly he knocked over a display of tiny bottles of salts. “Jumpy?” 

“You need a bell,” Keith grumbled and moved to go pick up the mess he’d made. 

“Your eighteenth birthday is soon,” Kolivan said slowly. The tone of his voice made Keith frown because it was like Kolivan wanted to say  _ more. _ There was some unspoken thing between them and Keith couldn’t figure out what that  _ thing _ was or why it seemed to make Kolivan unsure. 

“Yeah, so?” he retorted from the floor. “What’s the big deal?” 

“How have your dreams been lately?” 

“My dreams?” 

“Any flying dreams?” 

“Flying...? What are you talking about?” Keith stood up with the tiny bottles in his clutches. None of them were broken, thank God, but they were all out of order and hard to hold onto. 

Kolivan opened his mouth to continue but the door opened with a little chime and a customer bustled into the shop. Keith raised an eyebrow but Kolivan shook his head and walked around Keith to greet their new customer. A frown pulled at Keith’s mouth but he supposed he would have to pry later. Pushing the questions aside, Keith focused on Friday night and debating on what he was going to wear. 

 

* * *

  
  


“He  _ asked _ you to come to the game?” Lance’s voice came through Keith’s poor internet connection tinny and it echoed but the connection was better than some nights. Something to do with low cloud coverage. 

“Yeah,” Keith replied and elegantly stuffed another piece of popcorn into his mouth.

“And you’re going.” 

“Wouldn’t you?” 

Lance snorted. “Yeah,” he replied after a moment to consider. “I guess I would.” 

“Why would he ask me to come?” For the entire day, Keith had focused on wondering why Shiro would invite him to a football game  _ now _ . They’d known each other in passing for years but all of a sudden Shiro wanted him to come to one of his games. Considering how many times Keith had seen the movie  _ Carrie _ , he wasn’t sure how keen he was on going to a game without being suspicious. 

“Maybe he has a  _ crush _ on you,” Lance cooed into the camera, making kissy noises. 

Keith flipped off his webcam in response, still munching on popcorn absentmindedly. Suddenly, he wished he had telekinetic powers like Carrie just in case Shiro’s intentions were less than honorable. “If I come home covered in pig’s blood, you’ll know why.”

“Dude, it’s not a prank and you’re not Carrie,” Lance said with a roll of his eyes. “He invited you because he wanted to you to come… No, I don’t know why… but consider this a good thing. Okay?” 

“I guess,” Keith muttered and shoved his middle finger under his top lip to dig out a kernel from his gums, flicking it at the camera once it broke free.

Lance rolled his eyes and flipped him off in turn. “With eloquence like  _ that _ , how can Shiro resist?” 

A soft knock on his bedroom door made Keith turn on his computer chair and he flicked his eyes to the clock on his computer. 10:01 PM on a school night. Ulaz was probably here to tell him to go to bed. Keith hated that even at seventeen, he still had a damn bedtime. “I have to go,” Keith whispered and ended the call before Lance could react.

HIs door opened seconds later and as he figured, Ulaz came into his room holding a glass of warm milk. One of Keith’s bedtime favorites and probably laced with some crushed sleepy herbs to help him get a full night’s rest. Insomnia plagued Keith and always reared its ugly head on Sunday nights more than any other which Keith equated with his desire to not go back to school ever again.

“Time for bed,” Ulaz said.

Keith sighed and slithered out of his computer chair to go climb into bed and accept the glass of milk. He took a sip and immediately gagged – it tasted strong and bitter tonight. “What did you put in this?” he gasped and coughed.

“Just drink it. It’ll help you sleep.” Ulaz slid his fingers through Keith’s soft black hair and pressed it back from his face. 

“It tastes like fucking shit,” he growled but continued to down the drink until it was gone and he was left with a bloated stomach. “Ugh.”

“Get some sleep, Keith.” 

As if Ulaz had muttered a commanding spell, Keith felt his eyes grow heavy and he began to tilt back toward the pillows on cue. He felt Ulaz take the cup out of his hands and then he was covered in his heavy comforter but his eyes refused to open again. Ulaz said something else but sleep was already dragging him downward and he was unable to fight it. 

* * *

Morning came with the bad taste of dry mouth and morning breath. Keith squinted his eyes open to glare at his phone where his alarm kept going off to rouse him from a slumber so deep Keith couldn’t even find the bottom. Whatever Ulaz had laced in his drink last night had been killer. He couldn’t even remember dreaming but God was his neck and back sore. Unclenching every muscle in his back, Keith finally rolled over to shut his alarm off and drag his body out of bed to stumble toward the bathroom to wash the taste from his mouth. 

His black cat, Red, was sitting on the closed toilet seat when he entered the dark room, making him startle as the lights flooded on to brighten the room. “Christ!” he gasped, a hand flying to his chest. “Fucking creeper. Go away, I gotta do my business.” 

Red meowed in response and rubbed her head against his hip but jumped down to leave him in peace. Cats were fucking weird but Keith swore, at times, his cat was a special kind of weird. Then again, he had named his  _ black cat _ Red, so he supposed that was to be expected. Keith took his time in the bathroom to try and tame his black mane of hair and even line his brows and apply enough makeup to look like a decent human being versus like the swamp monster he felt like at five in the morning. 

After his seventh swipe of black lipstick, Keith managed to go back to his room and dig through his closet to find a pair of leggings, a long, oversized shirt, and billowing cardigan to complete the Monday look since Mondays were trash anyway. Of course, Lance would immediately notice his effort in the makeup on his face and the fact that he’d tied his hair halfback out of his face and found his favorite sunglasses to perch on his nose. Lance would notice how his  _ effortless _ look took all of the efforts Keith had this morning and he would  _ immediately _ equate that effortless effort to one handsome quarterback. 

And he wasn’t wrong. 

“You look nice,” Kolivan said when Keith walked downstairs to grab his bag. 

“I showered,” Keith replied quickly. 

“And put on a pound of makeup, I see,” Ulaz said and slid a grapefruit over to him. “Is this for a boy?” 

Keith wrinkled his nose at the fruit. “Can’t I just have a fucking pop tart like every other normal kid my age? And  _ no _ .” 

Kolivan chuckled and Ulaz sighed but he turned to go to the pantry and produce a silver, cellophane wrapped pop tart on request. “Here.” 

“Thanks.” Keith tucked the breakfast snack into his bag and checked the time. He still had ten minutes before Lance would arrive to take him to school. 

“Did you have any good dreams last night?” Ulaz asked casually but the tone made Keith frown. He sounded like Kolivan had yesterday; like he wanted to say more but halted before doing so. 

“Uh… I don’t know, I don’t remember any of them,” he replied with a shrug. “What did you put in that milk last night, I woke up sore as fuck, I feel like I didn’t move all night.”

Ulaz and Kolivan exchanged a glance but Keith couldn’t read their expressions. “It was just an herb, nothing more,” Ulaz replied with a wave of his hand. “I'm sorry you woke up sore, Keith.” 

Once again, Keith saw his uncles look at each other and Keith started to feel a bit uncomfortable. They were both acting weird and he remembered Kolivan asking him about his dreams the other day. Flying dreams, he’d asked. Giving them both questioning looks, Keith decided to go wait outside on the front porch. Why did his family have to be so fucking weird  _ all _ the time?

Red followed him outside and went to sit on the porch swing. Keith stood on the steps to wait on Lance but out of his peripherals, he swore he saw Red open a magazine. A Cosmo to be exact. Blinking, he turned around but Red was only sitting and watching him with her calm, unblinking yellow gaze. He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. Maybe he’d slept  _ too _ much and now was suffering weird consequences.

Lance pulled up to the driveway and Keith hurriedly left the porch steps to hop into the blue convertible. One more glance back to Red, who was still innocently sitting on the porch swing, Keith eased into the car and clutched his bag to his chest. There was something  _ really _ weird going on in his house and he had no idea what it was or if he even  _ wanted _ to know. 

“You okay?” Lance asked as he switched the radio channel around before decided to play his Spotify playlist instead.

“Yeah…” Keith said slowly, his eyes turning toward his house with uncertainty. “Everyone’s being fucking weird this morning.” 

“Whoa, look at you, all dolled up…. For  _ Shiro _ ?” Lance teased immediately. 

Keith groaned. “I don’t look any nicer than usual, okay? Fuck, get off my fucking bus.” 

“Whoa, calm down there, Cujo.” Lance pulled away from Keith’s house and they began their short distance to the school. “I was just commenting that you look nice. Jesus.”

“Sorry–. Kolivan and Ulaz are being weird… Keep asking me about my  _ dreams _ ? Flying dreams? And then… my cat…” Keith frowned and remembered not to rub his eyes because he’d worked ages on perfecting the wings of his eyeliner this morning and he’d be damned if he fucked them up. 

“What about your cat?” Lance asked.

“I don’t know… I feel crazy…” Keith shook his head and realized Lance had turned the music off. They were driving in intense silence and even through Lance’s sunglasses, Keith knew he was staring just as intensely as the silence surrounding them. 

“Just tell me.”

“I thought… I thought she was reading a fucking Cosmo… Like… she opened a magazine to  _ read _ …” Keith could hear himself sounding completely insane but the words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. “I swear to God, she just… she just  _ opened _ it.” 

“Like in  _ Harry Potter _ ?” Lance asked. 

“I guess…” Keith shook his head again and turned his eyes to watch their town slip by. “I know it doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense.” 

The silence continued for a moment and then Lance laughed lightly. “Sounds like  _ someone _ didn’t get enough sleep last night.” 

“I did though,” he countered quietly. Ulaz’s drink had left him punchdrunk and Keith realized he did feel a bit hungover. His uncle wouldn’t  _ drug _ him, at least, Keith was fairly certain Ulaz wouldn’t drug him.

“Relax. We’re almost to school and you can nap the first period.” Lance swung his car into a parking spot and they eased out to start following the ushering student body into the building. “I gotta hit up my locker, I’ll see you around.” 

Keith nodded absentmindedly and let Lance go off on his own. Their friendship never made sense to Keith, since Lance was popular and he most certainly was  _ not _ but he was thankful for their strange bond. Even if sometimes it felt fake to Keith, like his entire life wasn’t real and he was just swimming through a dream. Shouldering his bag, Keith walked to his own locker to check his lipstick and to grab his books. 

Upon opening his locker, Keith jumped when a folded up piece of notebook paper fluttered to the ground in front of him. Upon further inspection, Keith saw the crumpled paper was a note addressed to him. The handwriting didn’t belong to Lance and Lance wasn't the type to handwrite a note anyway. Not when he could simply send a text. The writing was cramped but neat with his name printed clearly on the outside so there was no mistake that this note was meant for him.

Every beat of his heart felt like a pulsing urge to unfold each corner of the note until he revealed its secret contents. Every breath in his tightened lungs sent a whip to the joints in his fingers to open it now but the bell for classes began to ring before he could indulge the id’s desires. The hallway emptied quickly only leaving behind stragglers like an academic sieve. Keith scuttled in behind a group of latecomers to go and find his seat in the back window. 

Dr. Coran – not  _ Mr. Coran _ , no, the many insisted on them addressing him as Doctor as he had a doctorate in metaphysics or something like that – sauntered into the room to take attendance. Keith listened for his name to be called and then subsequently checked out immediately afterward. Not only was homeroom horribly boring but the note was currently burning a third-degree hole into his concentration anyway. 

“What’s up with you?” Lance whispered while Coran yammered on and on about their next assignment.

Keith shook his head shortly. The note rested in the pocket of his jacket and he could feel it there, pulsing and throbbing. The rational part of his brain knew the note was probably nothing at all and possibly a practical joke. The part of his brain that believed in magic and eerie phenomena wanted to latch onto the idea that maybe the note was something about the upcoming game on Friday. Maybe the note was from Shiro and maybe Shiro wanted them to go out after the game together. 

_ Get a grip _ , Keith chastised the idiotic part of his brain. Shiro was not interested in him. Maybe he was now interested in Kolivan’s shop but the shop did not equal Keith. 

It was stupid to think the note was from Shiro but his brain didn’t stop fantasizing about the idea regardless. 

The bell rang and Keith jumped to his feet to walk quickly out of the classroom, down the hall, and to the boys’ restroom before Lance could even figure out what had happened. The lonely solitude of freshly cleaned porcelain sinks and the stench of teenage boys gave Keith enough confidence to hide in one of two only stalls within the bathroom and finally claim his prize. 

The note felt heavy in his hand like it was weighted with serious thoughts. Black ink stood out on the pale blue lines and Keith took a moment to steady himself before finally reading. 

 

> _ Keith:  _
> 
> _ I’m really glad you agreed to come to the game on Friday. I think you’ll have a good time. I hope you have a good time, at Least. After games, I usually either just go home or get pizza. Maybe we could get pizza together afterward? I know it’ll be kinda late but it is Friday night :) Let me know if you want to do that.  _
> 
> _ \-- T.Shirogane _
> 
> _ P.S.  _
> 
> _ My # is 303-443-5433 _

 

The fantastical part of his brain immediately turned to beat the shit out of the rational part of his brain. Shiro really  _ did _ want to go out with him after the game. Happiness flooded Keith’s entire body until he was practically walking on air as he left the restroom. Lance, unsurprisingly, stood waiting for him and checking himself out in the mirror. 

“ _ There _ you are. What are you  _ doing _ ? It’s a little early for masturbation, don’t you think?” Lance asked and Keith rolled his eyes in response. 

“I wasn’t fucking masturbating, you perv,” Keith snapped sharply while Lance continued to perfect each hair on his head.

“God, I wish I was,” Lance replied quietly. “Better than fucking duking it out here.” 

“Shiro wrote me a note,” he said casually to pry Lance off of the previous subject. He  _ really _ didn’t want to discuss Lance’s masturbation habits. 

Lance immediately turned to face him, his primping routine forgotten. “ _ Shiro _ ? What’s it say?!”

“He wants to have pizza after the game. Gave me his number, too.” Keith handed the note over, knowing there wasn’t anything Lance could say to ruin his mood or embarrass him. 

Lance snatched the scrap of paper to read the note himself and then he returned it to Keith’s hands. “So, that's great and all… but how are you going to convince your uncles to let you stay out past your curfew?” 

Okay. 

There was  _ one _ thing Lance could say to ruin his mood. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we mistake like men in this house (actually i'm just tired and i did my gotdamn best)

“Hey, Keith!”

Keith paused and tilted a little as the platform boots he’d chosen to wear today made his legs wobble like a newborn giraffe. But the sound of Shiro’s voice calling his name had his heart in his throat when he slowly turned to face the approaching jock.

Shiro crossed the parking lot at a jog and a smile filled his face when they were close enough to talk without shouting. “Wow, you look… _wow_.”

A blush colored Keith’s cheeks and he glanced down out of habit to take stock in what he’d thrown on after missing his alarm and having to beg Ulaz to take him to school. Surprisingly, his leggings matched the same black of his tunic and the wide brim hat on his head covered up the fact that he’d forgotten to brush his hair. Round sunglasses hid the bags under his eyes and he’d have to see if Lance had concealer he could borrow, but since they were wildly different skin tones Keith wasn’t putting much hope into the wish.

“Thanks… this is my “missed my alarm and only had ten minutes” look,” Keith replied as casually as he could muster around Shiro. Which wasn’t much.

“Well, it’s a good look.” Shiro fell into step with him and Keith noted he still wore the arrowhead around his neck. “So, not sure if you got my note..”

“I did!” Keith said hurriedly. “I got it.”

“Good. Good. My friends think I’m crazy. They say I should stay away from you.” Shiro rolled his eyes as if he thought the idea was really asinine. “Which is stupid.”

“They’re probably right.”

“But _why_? I don’t get it. You seem nice.” Shiro held the door open for Keith and continued to ramble about petty rumors. “To me, sounds like they’re all jealous of you. I mean, you’ve got the whole package.”

Keith blinked and wondered if Shiro had taken a happy pill this morning. “The whole package?”

“Yeah. You’re attractive, you’re smart, and you’re nice. People can’t handle that, so they start stupid rumors about you being a slut or your uncles are serial killers? Stupid.”

He’d heard the serial killer theory, the cannibal theory, the witch theory, but he’d never heard the _slut_ theory. “Who called me a slut?”

Shiro faltered when he realized this was news to Keith. “Oh, uh… A lot of guys, actually.”

 _A lot of guys actually_.

The words reverberated around Keith’s skull and left a bad taste like leftover liquor mixed with stale soda in his mouth. Memories of wild parties Lance dragged him to and the sound of zippers opening their hungry teeth while he sat on his knees and waited for his christening.

He’d never told a soul about how he’d sucked off three guys from the hockey team that night and how they’d enjoyed smearing black lipstick all over his face.  Not even Lance knew about that night and he’d never heard anything bad about his name either. He’d assumed the guys had never spoken about letting the _weird kid_ give them head but if Shiro had heard rumors about him being a slut...

Keith shuddered as he approached his locker, sandwiched between one blonde doing her makeup and another blonde exchanging venereal diseases with one of the known drug dealers at Garrison High. Everyone also knew he had herpes, except the girl he was currently locking lips with, apparently. Keith attempted to skirt around both of them to open his locker but he almost took an elbow to the face from the couple switching positions.

“Hey,” Shiro said and both blondes refocused their attention on him with doe eyes like they were Bambi lost in the woods. “Move it along.”

The couple making out moved away down the line as if Shiro were a god and the girl applying her makeup said _Hey Shiro_ , gave him a little finger wave and then walked away with a sashay to her hips that she clearly wasn’t born with. Keith rolled his eyes at the clear come hither displays. They were disgusting.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Shiro said to Keith once they were more or less alone. “I thought you knew.”

“No,” Keith said firmly. “And whatever you heard, it’s not true.”

Keith hated how his voice trembled with the oncoming threat of emotion. He hated how Shiro potentially knowing about that night filled with shame and the salty taste of regret. He hated having no control over what people could whisper and spread. The fire to his social funeral pyre.

“I’m sure it’s not,” Shiro agreed quickly. “Like I said, people like to spread rumors. It’s an older rumor if that helps. I’m sorry I even said it.”

“So, why did you?” Keith turned to look at Shiro with tears threatening to ruin his eyeliner but Keith refused to let them fall.

Shiro had to know the words would hurt. He had to know saying something like that would throw a nasty punch and leave Keith reeling. He had never envisioned Shiro insensitive but maybe he really was like all of the other popular kids. Maybe he was hoping to slide in on some slutty Keith action.

Shiro stammered and faltered. Words seemed to fail him completely and as he finally went to explain, the bell signaling the start of classes beat him to the punchline.

“Keith…”

Keith shook his head, slammed his locker shut and stormed away down the hallway to his first-period class. He wished Shiro would tell him the truth. He wished Shiro wasn’t like the others.

 

* * *

 

“What did you get for lunch?” Lance asked as he surveyed his mystery sandwich.

Keith continued to stir a plastic spoon through the viscous pudding cup absentmindedly while his eyes remained on Shiro’s table. Well, the table he usually sat at but he hadn’t arrived yet. After this morning’s exchange, Keith hadn’t run into Shiro again.

“Earth to Keith, come in Keith.”

Keith startled when Lance waved a hand in front of his face. “What?”

“Where is your head today, man?” Lance picked up the sandwich and shoved it under Keith’s nose. “Smell this.”

“Ew– no.” Keith shoved the sandwich away from his face and felt a temptation to fling pudding at Lance’s perfectly made-up face for being a dick. “Why aren’t you sitting with your squad?”

Lance’s usual table was populated with beautiful people Lance collected like Pokémon cards but the only person missing was Lance. He’d dared to step down off the pedestal and mingle with the commoners today.

“Thought we could eat together,” Lance replied. “Did you talk to your uncles about Friday?”

“Not yet.” And now he wasn’t sure he wanted to. Not after Shiro pointing out he was supposedly a slut. Whether Shiro believed it or not, he’d felt the need to bring it up, and Keith wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“What’s wrong? You have Bambi face,” Lance said which was his way of saying Keith looked lost and helpless. Keith hated the term _Bambi face_ ; he was no lost fawn.

“Fuck you. I do not.”

“Do, too.”

“Do _not!_ ”

“Hey, Keith.”

Keith startled when he heard Shiro’s voice which was followed by Shiro casting a large shadow across their table in the sunny afternoon. “Shiro.”

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry about this morning and I shouldn’t have brought up the slut rumor. I will admit to being curious about the truth behind what I heard because I heard you give good head but that doesn’t actually excuse me. I also find you really attractive and I’ve wanted to be your friend for a while now but I’ve been too shy to say hello.”

All of Shiro’s words came out in one breath and left Keith with emotional whiplash. Lance was just as flabbergasted as they both stared at Shiro with mouths agape and brows creased in confusion.

Once the words were out in the space between them like a dividing line, Shiro’s face drained of color and he stumbled for more words. Where once words flowed from him like a faucet, now he had trouble forming one coherent sentence. “I… I don’t… I don’t know why I said all of that,” he whispered, completely horrified.

“Uh…” Lance said. “What slut rumor? How come I’ve never heard this?”

Like a switch, Shiro started up again. “Well, it’s guys on the hockey team - three guys. They found out I liked Keith and told me he was a slut… something about a part and giving head but I don’t usually listen to rumors - except, sometimes I can be a gross guy, too, and I guess that was me this morning. I can’t stop, why am I saying this stuff?”

Shiro stared at them with embarrassment and horror all over his face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Keith’s stomach clenched as his frown deepened. Shiro laying out Keith’s business with such finesse, a dirty red carpet, left him speechless. Lance glanced between the two of them but Shiro started spewing more word vomit before he could speak.

“I have to tell you for Friday I was looking forward to hanging out with you, Keith, and getting to know you because you seem cool. And you’re hot. And I bet you kiss _so_ good…. but I’ve never asked before because you make me shy and I’ve never been shy around a guy before. It’s like you make me nervous- but- but not 'he might be a serial killer' nervous… More like… 'his eyes are the same color as the night sky and that’s my favorite' nervous.”

Keith blinked in further surprise. “Shiro.”

Of all the people who could have had a crush on Keith - at least in Keith’s estimation - Shiro had never been one of them. And yet Shiro liked him so much he’d pegged his eye color down despite their minimal interaction. The thought of Shiro studying him relentlessly made Keith blush.

Shiro blinked too and whatever had possessed his tongue seemed to fade. Scarlet covered Shiro’s cheeks and he shuffled away as fast as he’d arrived. The silence following Shiro’s wake grew heavy until the atmosphere threatened to snap from the pressure. Keith knew he had about five seconds to brace for impact from Lance’s forthcoming questions.

“So, that was… _weird_ ,” Lance finally said with the caution of a wary cat.

Keith ran a hand under his eyes and walked his fingers along his nose weakly. His face felt like clay beneath his touch. Shiro’s words left him emotionally drained to the point of wanting to call Kolivan and have him come sign him free from school.

After a moment, Lance placed a concerned hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

“What, no inquisition?” Keith asked with a coldness only rivaled by East Coast winters.

“Hey, I might antagonize you now and then but I know when to shut up.”

That was the biggest lie Lance had ever told but he refused to check and see if Lance’s nose had grown three inches. He was too tired to keep talking and Keith stood to dump his uneaten lunch in the trash and slowly go back inside toward his locker to grab his books.

Keith passed Shiro on the way to the door but he didn’t stop to see if they could make eye contact. He had a feeling Friday was ruined and despite always wanting to know if Shiro liked him back, a sour taste left over from the truth made his stomach twist. It was time to go home and Keith debated staying home tomorrow, too. The longer he avoided Shiro the better.

Once in the hallway, Keith pulled out his phone and Shiro’s contact information. His finger lingered over the small trash can but he decided to send one text before deleting the number entirely.

 

_— > it’s keith sorry for not texting you sooner and sorry for whatever just happened I get it I’m a slut and you wanted to know if you’d get lucky Friday _

_— > you don’t have to pretend to like me :/ _

_— > sorry _

 

Once the messages were sent and _read_ , Keith shut his phone off entirely. He’d use the school office phone to call Kolivan. Tears burned his eyes but he slammed his sunglasses back across his nose and shoved his chin up high.

_Think murder and walk._

So he did.

 

* * *

 

 

“Keith, you have to go to school,” Kolivan said to him on Wednesday morning while Keith lingered in bed and didn’t budge. “I let you stay home yesterday and picked you up the day before. But it’s time to go back unless you’re actually ill.”

 _Actually ill,_ seemed like a relative term. In Keith’s humble opinion he was definitely ill, even if by a medical practitioner’s opinion he was only a chicken. Either way, Keith felt like death and he didn’t want to go back to school. Ever.

“Keith.”

“Fine,” he huffed and forced his body upright and dragged his jello legs over the closet to dig through black on black on black pieces of fabric.

Kolivan left and shut the door in his wake. The click of the door lock made Keith sigh and he debated on faking his death for a brief, dramatic moment. Maybe if the school thought he was dead they’d stop talking about him and would put up a fake memorial that would make them all feel better about their shallow, vain lives. But Keith was no actor and Kolivan would never go for it.

No, instead Keith grabbed a pair of black leggings and a black oversized sweater to hide in today. No makeup because it was too much effort and a hair tie to put his hair up in a ponytail that seemed to have no beginning or end. His hair was just a wild nest Keith refused to brush this morning.

On the way downstairs, Keith turned on his phone at last and was immediately flooded with notifications. Most of them were from Lance but there was also a few notifications from Shiro. He’d responded to Keith’s texts.

 

<— **Hey, I’m so so sorry about that stuff I said earlier. I don’t know what came over me?? I couldn’t shut up. I’m honestly so embarrassed I acted like that in front of you and I’m sure you want nothing to do with me now. I really do like you and I’ve honestly been too shy to say anything about it. I know you probably think it’s because of my “social status” but it’s really just because I’m actually a giant dweeb who has no cool bone in his body I’m really not as cool as I seem honest**

<— **I also hope you still want to hang on Friday but I’d get it if you don’t :( I don’t think you’re a slut and I feel really gross that I thought I could get get that kind of thing out of you because of what I heard that’s so bad and I hate myself for it. I’m really sorry, Keith. I’d blame hormones but it’s not that, it’s just me being gross and letting myself be lulled by that**

<— **You’re not at school and I really hope you’re ok :( I told the guys to not say anything about you again.**

**< — please text me when you see this so ik you’re ok **

 

The last text had come this morning around five meaning Shiro was an early riser. The thought made Keith shudder but he didn’t have time to think on that. He had to shove his feet into a pair of boots, grab an Eggo, and dodge all questions regarding dreams so he could meet Lance out front.

Lance looked relieved when Keith slid into the car and then worried when he really took a look at Keith. “You look like shit.”

Keith snorted and rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the confidence, I know I can always count on you.”

“I just mean… never mind. Are you okay?”

What a debatable and subjective question. It was one his therapist always asked when he came in for sessions and it was one always asked by people he hardly knew. But those people wanted him to nod and play the game. Lance might actually want the truth and not the contrived truth he pulled out of a bag of lies to please people in a social setting.

“I don’t know,” Keith finally admitted. “Shiro sent me a few texts. Said he was sorry. And that he feels bad for even thinking he could get into my pants.”

“Good, he should be,” Lance said sharply. “Why didn’t you tell me about that night?”

“I was embarrassed.” Keith shrugged and picked at the toaster waffle quickly growing cold. “I felt like shit after and didn’t want a lecture so I just never said anything.”

“Well, I’m sorry about… I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t tell me.” Lance looked sheepish when he started to drive away from Keith’s house and off toward school. “Sorry I suck as a friend.”

“You do not.” Keith looked over at Lance and punched his shoulder lightly. “It was freshman year. I was scared, okay? I’d tell you if something happened now.”

“Damn. You must give _good_ head if they’re still talking about it from freshman year,” Lance laughed and Keith laughed, too. “Or their sex lives just suck that bad.”

“I’m gonna bet on the second one because I had no idea what I was doing and I was definitely toasted.” Keith shook his head over the memories of that night. The hangover the next day had been _terrible_ and Ulaz had lectured him long and hard enough to keep Keith out of the bottle and mystery punch ever since. The only indulgence he took now was smoking cigs and weed.

“Pathetic.” Lance snorted and they trolled the parking lot for a parking space. “So… Do you forgive Shiro?” He asked once they parked.

“I don’t know, why?”

“Because he’s walking over here.”

Keith startled and sure enough, Shiro was jogging up to the convertible. Concern and relief pulled Shiro’s face in a strange dichotomy of emotions but Keith knew he had to talk to him now. There were no other options.

“Keith! Hey!” Shiro paused at the car to let Keith climb out and to catch his breath. “You’re here. You’re okay.”

“Well,” Keith said with a snort. “Okay is relative.”

“I just mean… you’re alive.”

_Alive._

Another relative term.

“Debatable,” Keith muttered. “I got your texts but I didn’t see them until this morning. That’s why I didn’t reply.”

“Oh. Again, I’m so sorry.” Shiro fell into step with Keith and they walked toward the building together.

“I know. I’m not _mad_ , I was just embarrassed.”

Maybe a part of Keith had been mad at Shiro for just _assuming_ he’d maybe get some on Friday night after their pizza date but Shiro had apologized profusely. Most guys wouldn’t apologize. Plus, Monday had been… strange. The way Shiro spewed the truth so freely and been confused while doing it; Keith still didn’t know what to make of that whole display.

“Oh… Well, again-.”

“I know,” Keith cut Shiro off quickly. “You’re sorry. I got it. I forgive you… just… no funny business on Friday.”

“No! God, no, fuck…” Shiro looked down and ran a hand along the back of his head. “I hate that I made you think I’d do that.”

They arrived at Keith’s locker and suddenly he felt a sense of deja vu. They’d stood here two days ago and had had an awkward, eye-opening conversation. Now they were tiptoeing around a date. “If you were so shy, why did you ask me out now?”

“I don’t know,” Shiro admitted sheepishly. “After seeing you at that store, I just had this… _urge_  to ask you out. Somehow. Even if it’s just a casual thing between friends. Well, almost friends. Maybe friends?”

The question and uncertainty in Shiro’s tone made Keith smile slightly. He sounded as shy as he’d said. It was cute. “Sorta friends,” Keith agreed. “Could definitely be better friends.”

“Good.” Shiro smiled and there was such relief in his voice. “I’m so glad. So…um… you’ll come out on Friday?”

“I’ll be there,” Keith promised.

“Great.” Shiro smiled and went to turn around but immediately collided with an opening locker. Keith gasped and reached to stop him but it was too late and Shiro placed a hand on his forehead. “Ow.”

“Are you okay?” Keith asked. For the moment, he was worried but when Shiro turned to face him, a hand over his forehead and left eye, swinging and rubbing, a chuckle almost escaped him. He placed a hand over his mouth to bite back any amusement.

“See?” Shiro said. “Dweeb. It’s a good thing I’m attractive, at least, that’s what I hear.”

Keith couldn’t help it then, he laughed, for the first time in days. Shiro smiled softly back at him. The kid behind Shiro kept apologizing but Shiro only had eyes for Keith.

“I gotta get to class,” Shiro said.

“I’ll see you Friday,” Keith said.

“Yeah. Friday.”

This time, Shiro managed to walk to class without any awkward injuries. Keith smirked and shook his head. Shiro really was a dweeb and Keith liked it.

 

* * *

 

“How was school?” Ulaz asked when Keith walked through the front door once Lance dropped him off.

Red appeared like magic on the top of the stairs and came running down to greet him by rubbing his ankles and flopping on top of his boots to play with the laces.

“You’re home,” Keith said and he couldn’t mask the surprise in his voice. Ulaz usually worked this time of day while Kolivan stayed home to wait on Keith to return from school.

“Yes. I asked Kol to cover for me. I wasn’t feeling well today. But I’ve had rest and tea and now I thought I could dust a bit.” Ulaz currently stood on a ladder in front of their tall bookshelves rubbing a rag over the top to clear the dust bunnies and cobwebs.

“Oh…” Keith nodded and bent down to pick Red up so she wouldn’t trip him.

It wasn't that he didn’t like Ulaz but Kolivan usually left him be after school until he’d had a snack, a drink, and maybe a nap. Ulaz was the one who enjoyed playing twenty questions.

“I see you’re… disappointed,” Ulaz said.

“No!” Keith squeezed Red on reflex and she glared at him in response. “Sorry, Red. I just wasn’t expecting you. That’s all.”

“Was school as _dreadful_ as you envisioned this morning?”

“It wasn’t bad,” he said as neutrally as possible.

The house smelled like lavender and chamomile with a hint of earth. Like fresh soil from the garden out back. Ulaz must have been planting new flowers and vegetables. Keith set Red in the back of the couch and went to the back, glass sliding door to peer out into the fenced backyard. Nothing seemed new or amiss but the house smelled so strongly of dirt.

“What is it?” Ulaz asked.

“Were you gardening earlier?”

“No. I wasn’t feeling well, as I said, I haven’t been outside. It looks nice though.”

“Smells like you were.” Keith turned to look st Ulaz suspiciously. For days, both of his uncles has been acting strangely and Keith couldn’t put his finger on it. Nothing made sense and none of the events seemed to match up.

“I wasn’t.” Ulaz eased slowly off of the ladder and went to ruffle Keith’s hair. “Why would I lie about that, hm?”

“Don’t know,” Keith replied, his eyes narrowing. “Why would you?”

“Keith. I wasn’t gardening. I have not been outside. Red was outside, perhaps she tracked in some dirt.”

Keith glanced at the cat hut she seemed clean. She hadn’t smelled when he’d picked her up. The house was definitely the culprit. And it didn’t matter per se that it smelled but Ulaz had the gall to lie about it. Again, nothing made sense.

“Red,” Keith replied slowly.  
  
“Yes. Why does this matter so much to you? I’ll go find some spray if the smell is that bad.” Ulaz headed toward the kitchen with Keith right in his heels.  
  
“It’s not the smell,” Keith said quickly. “It’s the fact that you’re lying to me.”  
  
Ulaz stood with his back to Keith, the small island they had breakfast on in the morning, standing between them. Dried herbs dangling above Ulaz’s head instead of the usual pots and pans made Keith frown. He blinked a few times, wondering if sleep deprivation was making him hallucinogenic. As soon as he glanced up, the herbs disappeared and the pots returned like they always were.  
  
“Keith,” Ulaz said his voice low. “Have you made any wishes lately?”  
  
The question was so odd it threw Keith off and he forgot about the earthy smell. “Wishes? Like on my birthday?”  
  
Ulaz turned to face him but his face had changed from human to something else. Purple skin, yellow eyes, and sharply pointed ears. The image lasted only a moment but it was enough to make Keith panic.  
  
“Keith–.”  
  
“I need to lie down,” he said quickly.  “I– I need to lie down.”  
  
Before Ulaz could say anything else, Keith rushed upstairs but he only made it to the loft before shakily sitting in silence.  
  
The herbs in the ceiling, Ulaz’s changed face, the questions on dreams and wishes, the cat and magazines, Shiro’s bizarre behavior. Keith didn’t know when his life had turned into the twilight zone but he wanted it to stop.  
  
“Call Kolivan.”  
  
Keith blinked. A woman’s voice he didn’t recognize floated up the stairs and Keith eased off of the futon quietly to listen. There was a long pause, then Keith heard Kolivan’s gruff voice.  
  
“What is it?” Kolivan asked. “You look ill.”  
  
“Keith... He broke the warding on the house. _Our_ spell...  He saw _me_ . Only for a moment but I felt it,” Ulaz muttered. Fear made his voice tremble.  
  
“He’s strong,” Kolivan mused. “Probably how he bespelled that boy.”  
  
“He’s stronger than we thought,” came the woman’s voice again. “Like his mother.”  
  
His mother.  
  
Keith blinked as he had a brief memory of warmth and a soft kiss on the temple but then it was gone. He had no real memory of his mother, as they were all shrouded in fog, and Kolivan never spoke of his sister.  
  
“What of your spell, Ulaz?” Kolivan asked, probably to change the subject.  
  
“Nothing,” Ulaz spat, his voice bitter as cold, black coffee.

“I told you. The hunters are dead. Have been for years.”  
  
Keith’s brain felt like overwhelmed mush and he couldn’t listen anymore. Standing up as slowly as he dared, Keith crept toward his room, flinching when a floorboard creaked. The sound was a raised hand of a tattle tailer and Keith’s legs locked in place.  
  
“What was that?” The woman’s voice hissed, followed by a soft thud. Like a cat dropping to the floor but that would mean the voice belonged to _Red._  
  
The sound of little cat feet rushing for the stairs made Keith dive for the bathroom and he shut the door firmly in his wake. The sink turned on cold and the water was a welcome blast to his face. Clearly, he was hallucinating because cats couldn’t talk.  
  
Wards  
  
Spells.  
  
Everything was adding up to be a bad episode of Bewitched . Except magic wasn’t real and the only spooky thing about Keith was his ouija board duvet cover and his penchant to wear black.  
  
His gaze drifted to regard the pale and tired boy staring back. Dark circles cratered under his eyes as a neon sign sleep was being consistently evasive. Translucent veins decorated his temple and eyelids, stretching outward like a cry for help and a reminder he really did need more sleep.

  
“This isn’t real,” he whispered to the empty room.  
  
The truth danced across his frontal lobes as he grasped for straws at what was going on. The events were all improbable standing on their own but put together side by side, like strangely shaped puzzle pieces, they made sense. But only if one believed in supernatural phenomena.  
  
Being fantastical had always been a locked up dream, stashed away in the back glove compartment of Keith’s mind, created by a child who feared abandonment.  If only his mother were a witch, a fairy, an alien, then maybe she would come back and lead him into a grand adventure. If only his likeness for the macabre and strange had an explanation.  
  
But that wasn’t how life worked because none of it was real. Magic wasn’t real. Witches weren’t real. No letter would come in the mail whisking him away to Hogwarts.  
  
His mother wasn’t coming back for him.  
  
Keith closed his eyes to regain his composure before opening the door to leave the bathroom. Red sat outside of the door staring up at him like she’d always meant to be there. Normally, he wasn’t bothered by it but now it just felt wrong.  
  
Perverse.  
  
“ _What_?” he asked.

Red continued to stare but Keith shooed her with his foot. She hissed and dashed to jump and land on the banister by his door.  
  
“Stop being a pervert, Red,” Keith scolded coldly and slammed the door in her face.  
  
_Cats can’t talk,_ he reminded himself. _And magic isn’t real._  
  
Sleep called his name but Keith couldn’t help but feel as if Red was somehow still watching him through the door.  


* * *

  
“Keith... Keith... Keith, honey, wake up.”  
  
Sleep, the mallet poised above his skull, threatened to fall but the soft voice forced his eyes open. A pair of yellow eyes stared back at him and a rumbling, soft purring engine brought him to full focus. Red laid on his chest, purring contentedly, and the clock beside him read 8:28.  
  
“Shit!” He gasped and sat up in alarm. School started at 8:00.  
Red startled from the sudden movement and she dropped to the floor with a small meow. A throbbing ache lived inside Keith’s temple and he doubted it would be moving out anytime soon. Despite a headache, he stumbled down the stairs to the kitchen to ask why they hadn’t gotten him up but it was empty.  
  
No sign of Kolivan or Ulaz anywhere.  
  
Red, however, appeared in his peripheral and she batted and pawed at the basement door. Keith turned to face the door slowly and wondered if this was what horror movies looked like. All of the years he’d lived in this house and he’d never opened that door. He’s never even seen his own basement.  
  
Red rubbed his ankles and despite his innards turning inside out, Keith opened the door to stare into the black maw of the doorway. Red darted down the stairs but Keith took his time, feeling along the wall for a light switch. His feet carried him down cautiously and finally at the bottom he managed to flip a switch.  
  
The room flooded slowly with amber light and still no signs of his uncles. A bloody pentagram marked up the dusty floor and Red sat in the middle. Another door, presumably leading to another room stood partially open. Keith inched his way over and reached out a trembling hand to pull the door open.  
  
Red growled and hissed. The smell of putrid and dying matter filled his nose. Keith gagged and coughed, his eyes watering. A man with Shiro’s face lay on the floor.  
  
He was dead.  
  
“Wake up,” Red said.  


* * *

 

Lungs are simple, automatic machines. Drag in oxygen and push out carbon dioxide to keep organic tissue alive. Lungs are simple, automatic machines with a big job. Lungs are a terrible thing to be without.

Keith woke up dragging air through a tube so tight he wasn’t sure when he’d last taken a proper breath. He sat up straight, trying to pull enough oxygen to satisfy his body into believing it was not about to die. Keith could feel the undrained adrenaline rushing through every limb and he shakily climbed out of bed to claw his bedroom door open and stagger to the bathroom.

Stomach acid did not taste pleasant coming up.

“Keith?” Kolivan appeared in the bathroom doorway, a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and his eyebrows raised in concern.

Keith gagged and spat more bile into the toilet bowl. It swirled and drifted on top of the water like oil and he shuddered at the sight. “I’m fine,” he gasped, even if convincing Kolivan would be harder than a simple claim.

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“You could say that.”

A nightmare or a vision? Keith wasn’t sure but the image of the dead man in their basement made him queasy. “Kolivan,” he whispered, leaning against the sink as a crutch. “What’s in the basement?”

“Just boxes and a few things for storage. Why do you ask?” Kolivan held the toothbrush in his hands now and he took a step back so they weren’t so close and Keith could have some breathing room.

“I’ve never been down there…” The sentence came out with a quiet fear he couldn’t quite place.

Again. Nothing made sense.

“Do you want to go down there now?” Kolivan asked slowly. “You look pale, maybe you should rest some more.”

Questions burned the back of his tongue but they were lodged in an unwilling throat. Questions that made no sense or had a bearing in reality. Questions that would potentially land him a one-way ticket to a syringe in his arm and his ankles and wrists strapped to a hospital bed. He didn’t want Kolivan to think he was insane but maybe he was insane and needed to take a break from being so paranoid all the time.

Maybe he needed a break from life but tomorrow was Thursday which meant tomorrow was his last chance at asking Kolivan and Ulaz about the game. He had to make his move soon. They wouldn’t let him go if they thought he was sick or crazy.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “Sorry, I’m just tired, I guess.” Keith tried to smile but he was sure it mostly resembled a grimace.

“Get some sleep, Keith.” Kolivan guided him back to his room and even made sure he was tucked in for the night.

Tomorrow would be a better day.

He hoped.


	3. Chapter 3

“Going to school?” Kuron asked Shiro as he appeared from his bedroom, wearing his football jersey and letterman jacket. While Shiro poured over calculus textbooks, Kuron poured over ancient texts the hunters considered gospel.

“Yes, I’m going to school, Kuron,” Shiro replied sharply. “Why wouldn’t I go to school?”

“Thought you’d want to help me today. Learn the family business.” Kuron gestured at the table, covered in a map of the town, books, newspaper articles, and one coffee cup he’d already filled four times since the early eaves of the morning.

Shiro shook his head and wrinkled his nose. The idea clearly made his baby brother squeamish. He hated that the witch hunter gene would die with him and not continue on with Shiro; which simply meant Kuron had to finish this job thoroughly.

“You don’t have to do this,” Shiro said quietly.

“I do,” Kuron replied. “I’ve been hired to do a job and I will do it until completion.”

Shiro looked down at the floor sadly as if the idea of one less witch pained him. Witches took their parents so he wasn’t sure why Shiro seemed so besodden. “And you’re sure it’s these witches?”

“Yes. The Marmora’s. They’ve been around many years, Shiro. I told you what I must do. You said you’d help me.”

“I know but…” Shiro trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. “Keith seems nice.”

“They aren’t like us, Shiro,” Kuron replied as neutrally as possible. “They’re inhuman.”

“You don’t even know him.”

The coffee cup clinked hard on the table as Kuron slammed it down. Hot coffee sloshed over the side at impact and stained a section of the map. Kuron dabbed it up as much as he could with his t-shirt. Ridding the world of foul creatures like the Marmora family was part of the long tradition his family stemmed from. Witches were foul, evil beings and Kuron would not let his family down.

He refused to be the weak link.

“Go to school, Shiro,” Kuron said quietly. “Do not test my patience.”

“I’m just saying… he seems… I mean, I like him a little….”

Shiro liked Keith a lot, Kuron knew from the way he said Keith’s name and kept bringing him up casually in conversation. Like he wanted Kuron to like him, too, so nothing bad would happen to Keith or his family.

“I said _go to school_ , Shiro.” Fighting with his baby brother, yelling at him, being cruel to him was not what Kuron _wanted_ to do. He didn’t want to trick or lie to Shiro either but sometimes sacrifices and bad choices had to be made to finish what his ancestors started years prior.

“You said nothing bad would happen to Keith,” Shiro pointed out. “Because he’s just a kid.”

“Yes, I know.” Kuron turned to face Shiro again, sighing. “I meant that. I won’t hurt him. I just need information from him. So, I need you to get as much information as you can about his family. Alright?”

Shiro nodded. “Okay. I will.”

“Good. Now _go_. You’ll be late.”

Shiro nodded and paused, like he wanted to do or say something else but then physically held himself back. The door shut behind Shiro quietly and Kuron finally returned to looking at the map and what little information he had on the Marmora’s. They were a hard group to track down, despite being alive for centuries.

Krolia Marmora had been the easiest to find but he’d found her in California, living with her husband. Currently, she had no powers of her own, having sacrificed them to save both her son and her son’s father. Now, she lived in a small town in California, under the last glamour spell bestowed upon her by the witch’s council. At least, that is what Kuron was able to find out.

He wasn’t going to kill her.

Just her son and the rest of her family. They were the real threat. The witches with the power; no family should hold such power. Shiro lived in the bliss of him not hurting Keith but Kuron knew he would have to take the boy out, too. Hopefully, by then, Shiro would understand the importance of this job.

By then, he hoped, Shiro would understand his feelings were partially influenced by the budding magic of a teenage witch.

By then, he hoped, Shiro would hate them just as much.   


* * *

 

 

The dead man rotting in Keith’s basement spoke to him while he lay paralyzed in  bed.

“You killed me.”

The dead man wore Shiro’s face but his hair was longer, tangled, and dirty. He looked worn and tired. His skin the gray pallor of a corpse and his right arm loose and unmoveable at his side. The skin around his eyes flaked away to reveal the red, raw flesh beneath. It turned black as the oxygen restricted the capillaries.

“Who are you?” Keith whispered. He couldn’t move and part of him knew this was only a dream. The dead man wasn’t real and he was sure his therapist would have a ball trying to analyze this one.

“You killed me.”

“No, I didn’t! Who are you?”

“Who do I look like?” the dead man replied.

Keith frowned and shook his head. “Shiro– You’re not Shiro. Who _are_ you?” Keith attempted to move but his body remained locked in place. He couldn’t even move his head or jaw so he wasn’t even sure how they were communicating.

“You killed me.”

“No,” Keith snarled. “Who _are_ you?”

“Who do I look like?”

“You’re not Shiro,” Keith whispered. “What killed you? Why are you here?”

“You killed me.”

“No! I didn’t. I can’t. I don’t know who are you.” Keith shut his eyes to pretend the dead man was not there. _Wake up, wake up, wake up, it’s a dream. Wake up._

“Who do I look like?”  

The dead cannot speak but this one wouldn’t shut up. Keith kept his eyes closed and waited for his consciousness to return to the land of the fully rested.

 

* * *

 

“Keith! It’s time for school!”

Ulaz’s voice was a welcome drink of water after sleep paralysis plagued by a nightmare. His body ached and every muscle cramped and seized when he attempted to sit up. “Fuck,” he whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

Thursday.

Today was the day he would try to talk Ulaz nad Kolivan into letting him go to a football game after school. Today was the day he had a date with Shiro. The last thought motivated him enough to finally drag his body out of bed, despite the pain, and wobble over to his closet to dig around for something to wear. According to his phone, the weather was sunny and warm, almost hot, so Keith yanked out a pair of black shorts and a plain black t-shirt that had shrunk in the wash but now resembled a crop top so Keith kept it for fashion’s sake.

 _Lance would be so proud_ , he thought with a snort, yanking the shirt and shorts on. Taming his mane was another story but Keith had given up on that years ago. He ran a brush through the soft locks and hoped they looked semi-decent before doing a quick makeup job. He’d put on something heavier for tonight but a quick dab of dark red lipstick, almost black, and a swift lining of his eyes was enough to satisfy his look for school.

Now, he had to try and convince the uncles to let him go out tonight. He eased his way downstairs and went to find Ulaz and Kolivan to try and work his wiles on them. They were both in the kitchen. Ulaz stood at the stove, making eggs from the smell, and Kolivan was reading the newspaper and drinking coffee.

The usual.

Curfew, even on a Friday, in the Marmora household was strictly 10 pm, no if’s, and’s, or but’s. The only time Keith was allowed out of the house outside of the strict curfew was if it were due to a school project or if he was spending the night at Lance’s. No other exceptions, so Keith had concocted a plan to meld the two excuses into one.

Football games were school events and he could easily convince Lance to let him sleep over Friday night after his pizza with Shiro.

The idea? Foolproof.

The execution? Not as well planned but he had to try.

“Morning,” he said casually and sat down at the table to pull on his favorite black socks. Printed on the side was the phrase, _We Are the Weirdos Mister_ , and he liked wearing them as often as possible. Especially since they could be seen with almost any of his regular shoes.

“Good morning, Keith,” Kolivan said, his eyes still locked on the paper.

“Sleep alright?” Ulaz asked. “I should have given you some milk last night, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine but that really wasn’t their business. “I have a question.”

“Go on,” Kolivan replied.

“Can I go to the football game tonight with Lance?” Not a lie. They just didn’t need to know what was happening _after_ the game.

“You want to go to a football game?” Ulaz asked slowly. He raised an eyebrow and turned his gaze on Kolivan suspiciously. “You hate sports.”

“Lance wants me to go,” Keith said slowly. He felt as if he were in a mine-field and any wrong misstep would send him blasting into space.

One wrong answer and he’d be in for a lecture at least an hour long. Keith was not about to screw this up and lose his chance on having dinner with Shiro.

“You’ve never gone with him before,” Ulaz continued.

Kolivan was the easy uncle – he could convince Kolivan of almost anything and Kolivan would roll with the punches. Even though Kolivan liked to lecture him, too, especially about deviating from any assigned tasks, he would at least allow Keith to make mistakes. Ulaz was the harder egg to crack – convincing Ulaz of anything that was not within the usual took planning, effort, and a lot of little white lies. All of those things Keith was running short on since he’d waited until Thursday to ask at all.

“So? I want to go now. It’s senior year, I should go to like… _one_ game, right?” Keith crossed his arms over his chest as the usual defensive maneuver he whipped out when uncomfortable.

“What’s the harm of one game?” Kolivan asked finally. He turned his wizened gaze to Ulaz and shrugged one shoulder. “He’ll be with Lance the whole night and he’ll come home-.”

“Well,” Keith cut in sheepishly. “Since I’ll be probably past curfew, I was hoping to spend the night at Lance’s house.”

Technically, _not_ a lie since he’d have to go somewhere after having pizza with Shiro. He just wasn’t sure _when_ he would show up at Lance’s house.

This time, Kolivan frowned and Ulaz had a look of satisfaction like Keith had proven some unspoken truth. “I see,” Kolivan said slowly. “Well, we’ll have to speak with Lance’s parents.”

Keith groaned as they casually blew holes in his plans. “I’m almost _eighteen._ I wish you’d just _trust_ me!”

There was a period of silence and then like flipping on a switch, Ulaz and Kolivan both seemed to settle. Keith frowned when the lecture ended. This wasn’t the usual MO from either of them and he wasn’t sure what to say or do.

“Guys?”

“Hm?” Kolivan asked.

“So, can I go?”

“Oh, yes. Yes. Go.” Ulaz said with a nod.

The _go_ wasn't every specific but Keith decided to count his blessings and grab a plate of eggs to shovel down before they changed their minds. The morning went on without another mention of the game so Keith grabbed his backpack and left the house to go wait for Lance out front. They were _still_ being weird and Keith wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

Lance rolled up, same time as always, and let out a whistle and a _Damn, Keith_ as he parked. Keith rolled his eyes and hopped into the car so they could be on their way.

“Look at you, showing off your thighs. Damn. Didn’t even know you had thighs.”

“You’re not my type,” Keith said.

Lance laughed. “Good because that’d be weird. Did you ask about the game?”

“Yeah…” Keith turned a final glance on the house and frowned. The air seemed to shimmer and shift around the house like it was covered in a thin, filmy veil. He blinked a few times and then it was gone. Just a trick of the light, Keith assumed, but it reminded him of the time in the kitchen with Ulaz.

“And?”

“Do people who are crazy know they’re crazy?” Keith whispered.

“What?”

“I mean… So much weird stuff has been happening lately and… I don’t know… I wonder if something is wrong with me.” Keith looked at his lap feeling afraid and worried. Kolivan never spoke of his mother but maybe his mother had some type of mental illness and he’d inherited it. Maybe she was schizophrenic. Maybe _Keith_ was schizophrenic. Maybe he was just unhinged. He didn’t know.

“Like what?” Lance asked slowly. The tone of his voice shifted from usual Lance banter to something more serious. Like he was genuinely curious about the strange things going on in Keith’s life for once.

“Well, they’ve been acting weird. Kolivan and Ulaz... asking me about my dreams and stuff. Flying dreams and then Ulaz asked me about wishes? Like if I’d made wishes lately…”

 _I wish you’d just trust me_ , Keith had yelled this morning and then they’d let him go to the game. He’d wished for a Ducati last week and Shiro had arrived on one. He’d wished Shiro liked him and now Shiro was taking him on a date.

“What?” Lance asked. They were stopped. Lance had pulled over and was completely focused on him. He’d never seen Lance look so intense. “Have you?”

“Yes–… But that doesn’t make sense. Everyone says stuff like that,” Keith said quickly. “Why did you stop?”

“What did you wish for last?” Lance asked, ignoring Keith’s question.

“I wished for them to trust me.”

“And?”

“They’re letting me go to the game tonight– but so what? I can’t _make_ stuff happen!” Keith snapped. “I may dress like this but that doesn’t make me magical, Lance! None of that stuff is _real_.”

“Are you sure?” Lance whispered.

“What? What are you _talking_ about?”

They stared at one another, Lance with an intensity he’d never seen from his friend before until he finally sighed and they started driving again. Now _Lance_ was being weird. There was no solace.

“Nothing,” Lance said quietly and turned the radio on without another word.

Keith’s frown deepened and he turned his eyes back to their stupid gentrified town as they drove to school. Bad enough his uncles were acting squirrely but now Lance was, too? It was too much and Keith couldn’t wait to catch a break tonight around Shiro. _Please, let there be no more weird things tonight_ , Keith thought and rested his head on his arms and shut his eyes.

 

* * *

  


“ _Goooooood_ morning.”

Keith fought back a big smile when Shiro greeted him at his locker carrying a little brown bag. “It’s almost lunchtime,” Keith pointed out while exchanging his books.

Shiro leaned his back against the locker beside Keith’s, his fingers hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. The varsity letterman jacket he wore over his football jersey looked absolutely atrocious but part of Keith wanted to try it on. Isn’t that what couples did? Wear each other’s jackets? Were they a couple?

 _No_ , Keith told himself firmly. _You haven’t even been on a fucking date._

“Well, I missed you this morning,” Shiro pointed out. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay.” Keith shrugged and slowly shut the locker door and leaned against it to look Shiro over. “Your jacket is really ugly.”

There was a pause where Keith worried he’d messed up because Shiro just stared at him but then a smile crossed Shiro’s face followed by a laugh. “They really are, aren’t they?” he asked, still laughing.

“Sorry, sometimes I’m overly blunt. I have class.”

“Me too, me too,” Shiro said. “I’m _really_ excited to see you tonight at the game. Are you excited?”

The game was definitely not what Keith was excited about but he offered Shiro a flirtatious smile anyway. At least, he thought it was flirtatious. Lance would probably tell him it was an ugly grimace but Shiro’s cheeks turned pink so he supposed it was working. “I’m excited to see you,” he said neutrally.

“Yeah?” Shiro’s face continued to darken with a blush. “Have you ever been to a game before?”

“I’m not much of a sports guy,” Keith admitted. “But I may as well go to one, right?”

“Not even _one_?” Shiro asked. “Wow. Live under a rock? Wait- fuck, I’m sorry. That was… that was rude. I suck.”

Keith snorted and they began to walk down the hall together toward Keith’s class. He was going to point out that Shiro was definitely going the wrong direction since his class was on the _opposite_ end of the hallway but then Shiro slid Keith’s books into his arms like they were a couple.

“It’s okay, I kind of do,” Keith replied. “I have these two crazy uncles who have been acting even weirder than usual lately… and… well..” Keith gestured at himself since his hands were free. “Look at me. I’m not exactly the perfect picture of high school socialite.”

Shiro did look at him, almost the point where Keith had to reach out and guide him into _not_ running into another open locker door. “I’m looking at you and all I see is a really hot guy I can’t wait to take out for pizza tonight.”

If Keith hadn’t been walking in a perfectly straight line without absolutely any objects in his path, he would have definitely walked into a door, a trash can, another person. _Something_ he could have blamed the next few seconds on but unfortunately the only thing he could blame is his own feet as Shiro’s compliment sent him tripping and falling forward, face first into the floor right outside of his classroom.

“Keith!” Shiro gasped, dropping Keith’s books down so he could slide down on his knees to check on him. “Are you okay? What did you trip over?”

Keith grunted and remained on the floor for a moment, realizing his knee ached and he’d definitely scraped it up and his elbow felt like it had twisted most definitely the wrong way. “My own feet,” he grumbled. “Hazard of wearing tall shoes.”

“Well, don’t move yet–,” Shiro said but Keith was already pulling himself upright by using the lockers and the classroom door.

“I’m fine,” he lied through gritted teeth. “This is my class. I have to get inside and you're going to be late.”

“Oh.” Shiro grabbed Keith’s books and put them back into a straightened and even stack. “Here you go and maybe if I run I can make it in time–.”

The class bell rang before Shiro could even finish the final syllable of his statement. Keith snorted and pretended he wasn’t desperately wanting to sit down due to his ankle hurting. “Nice try,” Keith said as he took his books. “I’ll see you tonight, Shiro. Thanks for walking me to class.”

“See you, Keith.” Shiro gave him a mock salute and then he turned to run down the hallway.

“Mr. Kogane, are you coming in or staying out?”

Keith watched Shiro run for just moment longer and then limped his way into the classroom. A twisted ankle was _definitely_ worth watching Shiro run to class.

  


* * *

  


“Wow, you tripped over your own two feet, twisted your ankle, and you caused Shiro to be late to class. I feel as if that is the most balance karmic moment of your life,” Lance mused over pudding while they sat together eating lunch.

“I hope he didn’t get in trouble,” Keith replied and spooned out his own pudding. “Still can’t believe Kolivan and Ulaz are letting me go.”

“Believe it.”

“You know, you were acting weird this morning, too,” Keith pointed out. “The ride to school. You got all intense and then and were talking about how I can make stuff happen. The fuck was that about? It’s bad enough I get that weird shit at home, I don’t need you being weird, too.”

Lance stared into his pudding cup and fished out the last drop, running the spoon over his tongue in an obnoxiously coy manner. Several guys at the jock table turned to watch, their hands clenching the table’s edge so tightly Keith was surprised the plastic didn’t crumble.

“Lance,” Keith snapped.

“Look, sorry about this morning. I was focused on the idea of you making shit happen which would be _cool_ , okay?” Lance said with a snort. “You know my sisters are into that fate and tarot reading, psychic bullshit. I got sucked in. I”m _sorry_. And for the record, I didn’t know your uncles were into it, too.”

Keith took a breath and nodded a little. He hadn’t realized they were into that lifestyle either and he had _no_ idea why it was presenting itself now. Magic, witches, spells, tarot cards, wards, wishes, psychic readings – it was all made up bullshit for people to make money. Maybe Kolivan and Ulaz were secretly into that New Age religion crap and they were trying to induct him into, too. For his sake, he really hoped not.

“So, despite the injury, still going tonight?” Lance asked even though they both knew Keith’s answer. “I mean you look pretty hot, so you may as well.”

“ _Yes_ , I’m still going. Can I crash at your place after the pizza?” Keith asked.

“ _Mi casa,_ su _casa_ ,” Lance replied without a flinch. “Just when you show up text me so I can sneak you in because you _know_ my Abuela will call Kolivan in a hot flash to tell him we’re a bunch of lying shits.”

Keith snorted. Lance’s grandmother was by far the scariest woman he’d ever met but she always seemed to like him for the most part. “Thanks, Lance,” Keith said genuinely. He hardly ever _thanked_ Lance without reason so the words felt strange on his tongue but they made Lance grin.

“Welcome, dude. Okay, I gotta go make the rounds. You good on your own?”

“I’ve managed to eat lunch on my own in the past, yes,” Keith said with a well-earned eye roll. Lance flipped him off in response but Keith grinned into his pudding before digging into the spicy chicken sandwich wrapped in silver aluminum foil.

Once Lance was gone, Keith's mind immediately wandered toward what he’d overheard the other day and his strange dreams. The dead man who looked like Shiro talking in riddles and refusing to reveal his true identity. The fact that it seemed as if his cat could speak but Keith knew that made absolutely no sense. Of course, his cat could not speak. The only thing she knew how to do was meow for dinner and bother him at inappropriate times.

Nothing in his life made sense as he’d realized over the past week. The only thing that seemed to make semi-sense was tonight and the fact that he had a date with Shiro but even _that_ didn’t seem to make sense. After Lance pointed out he’d been receiving things he wished for, Keith had to wonder over the legitimacy of Shiro’s offer, even if he did not believe he could _make_ things happen simply by wishing.

 _I wish for a million dollars to fall from the sky and land in my lap_.

Keith glanced up at the sparse clouds overhead but there was no sign of a million dollars dropping out of the blue and into his lap. There wasn’t even a bird in the sky, just the clouds, the blue expanse, and the sun glimmering behind a few clouds. He couldn’t _make_ things happen; it was impossible and magic was about as real as the chance of them losing the football game tonight.

Keith took another bite of his sandwich and startled in alarm when, suddenly, there was a group of guys passing at a quick speed. He realized too late a football was flying overhead and one of the guys had jumped up to catch it. Keith dropped his food when the guy ended up crashing into him and landing solidly on his lap like a blanket.

“Hey!” Keith said and tried to push the guy away.

“Fuck, fuck, sorry,” he laughed and grabbed the football from the ground before pushing himself upright.

“Fucking buy me dinner first before you get down there again,” Keith growled.

The guy, Keith realized he was one of Shiro’s rich friends – Lotor – offered an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to get so friendly so fast. Lost my balance. You’re Keith, right? Shiro was talking about you.”

Keith stared at Lotor and the thought of Shiro talking about him almost distracted him from realizing his wish had come true. Lotor, his family at least, was well worth more than a few million dollars.

A million dollars had fallen from the sky and landed in his lap.

While it was not the exact execution Keith had had in mind, the wish had _come true_. He stared at Lotor with an open mouth which he could only open and close uselessly. Lotor raised one of his eyebrows but Keith couldn’t think of anything to say. His mind turned into a giant wordless snowstorm and then the bell rang to announce it was time to return from lunch.

Keith didn’t move. He remained at the lunch table until the courtyard drained and he was the only person left outside. A breeze tickled Keith’s hair free of its ponytail in spots but he didn’t have the energy to fix the strands. His next class had a paper due, which was stashed in the red folder between his chemistry book and blue notebook for his English class. The paper was written to the full word count and Keith had put real effort into the piece but he couldn’t make his legs move.

If he tried to stand now he would simply fall back down because the weight of what had just happened kept him grounded on the bench. Nothing and everything made sense. He didn’t want any of it to be true because how could _one_ person make something happen by simply wishing it into being. This was, at best, completely impossible and, at worst, completely insane.

Keith took a few deep breaths and tried to move his legs but they still refused to listen to his brain. He hoped his teacher would be understanding of his mental crisis. He wanted to pull out his phone and text Kolivan a few choice phrases but even his arms refused to obey his command. His body existed on another, tired plane while his mind suffered through an entire class period. When the bell rang to switch classes, Keith’s legs finally seemed to snap into working order and he was able to rush down to his locker and grab his, now late, paper to turn in.

Quick, rushed apologies made his teacher frown but Keith was gone before he could say anything. He ran down the hall as fast as his twisted ankle would allow and as soon as he rounded the corner to go to his final art class of the day, he collided with someone taller and definitely more solid than him. The air stolen from his lungs did not return until Keith found himself like a turtle on his back, just staring up the ceiling helplessly.

“Sorry!” came the apology and then Shiro’s face appeared in his line of sight. “Keith– Hey. Uh… wow, we _really_ have to stop meeting like this.”

“Like what?” Keith mumbled. Shiro held out his hand and Keith allowed their fingers to interlace so Shiro could pull him upright. The sudden motion made his head spin and his ankle throbbed, now completely wrecked from all of the abuse it had taken today.

“Like we’re both walking disasters,” Shiro said with an embarrassed smile. “You okay?”

The question was routine, something everyone asked of one another after a bodily accident, and something Keith knew how to lie his way through to the socially acceptable answer. Even though he was far from okay, Keith managed a nod and a smile for Shiro. “I’m fine. Just didn’t want to be late.”

“Cool. Well, see you soon.” Shiro patted his shoulder and Keith walked around to get into the classroom. Losing his mind in some charcoal and ink sounded like the best way to end the day and to keep his thoughts from turning toward magic, witches, and other impossible things.

  


* * *

  


The football lasted a lot longer than Keith had ever anticipated. If he’d known footballs went on for four hours, Keith never would have voluntarily signed up to go watch one. At least they’d won and now he was standing in the parking lot waiting for Shiro to show up for their pizza date. The Ducati was nowhere in sight and Keith realized he actually didn’t know what kind of car Shiro drove, so he was just loitering around where he thought Shiro might show up.

The night’s breeze tickled Keith with cold whips and wearing shorts and the crop top now felt really idiotic. He hadn’t even thought to bring a jacket, even though Lance had walked out of his house in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt before they’d left for the game. Not that he’d brought anything with him anyway, meaning he’d have to borrow something from Lance to sleep in tonight.

Shiro showed up with the other football players but he waved them off with laughter and smiles and his smile only lit up when he saw Keith waiting on him. He jogged to close the distance like an eager puppy. “Hey,” he said. “I saw you in the stands a few times. What did you think?”

“Too long,” Keith replied.

Shiro laughed. “Hey, at least we didn’t go into overtime. Hungry?”

Keith nodded. “Starving.”

“Sweet, me too. Aren’t you cold?” Shiro asked as they started to walk across the parking lot to where Shiro parked his car. A black Jeep. He’d have to remember that for later.

“A little,” Keith admitted even though his instincts told him to deny any hints of being cold.

Before Shiro unlocked the car he walked over, removed his ugly letterman jacket, and draped it around Keith’s shoulders. The jacket was so large it draped down close to Keith’s knees and was definitely warm. Especially since Shiro had been wearing it. Keith’s cheeks heated up and he clutched the ugly, jacket closer, eager to be draped in Shiro’s scent.

“Better?” Shiro asked and unlocked the car, pulling Keith’s door open.

“Yeah,” he said, easing into the leather interior. The car was nice – one of those fancier Jeeps with Bluetooth, GPS, and probably every other bell and whistle a car could have.

Shiro eased into the car after Keith was settled and turned it on, keeping the radio turned down low. “So, pizza is what we settled on, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith said as he recalled their much earlier conversation. “I think so.”

“Cool.”

“Where’s your bike?”

“Huh?”

“The Ducati you were riding, where is it?” Keith asked, looking around as if Shiro could magically store it in the backseat.

Shiro’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion but then he seemed to figure out what Keith was talking about and he laughed. “Oh! That… That wasn’t mine. I have a friend who has one and he let me drive it.”

Keith blinked a few times. His friends wouldn’t even let him borrow three bucks let alone drive a motorcycle that cost more than most public college tuitions. “Wow, your friends are _really_ nice.”

“Yeah,” Shiro laughed. “See, my brother knows a lot about bikes and there was something wrong with it. So he dropped it off at the house so Kuron could fix it and then when he came to pick it up, he asked me if I wanted to drive it a bit as a _thank you_ for free labor. I couldn’t say no.”

Keith nodded even if he was still flabbergasted that Shiro had such generous friends. “What if you’d wrecked it?”

“I wasn’t gonna wreck it,” Shiro argued.

They drove down the twisting roads away from the school toward the small town so they could pull up outside of Moonlight Slice, one of the few places that stayed open late, especially on weekends. Its companion store, Full Moon Diner, stood not too far away and was the other place to stay open late to accomodate night owls, truckers, and the lonely of the town.

“What if you had though?” Keith argued when Shiro carefully parked between two other vehicles.

“I don’t know,” Shiro said and switched the car off. He looked over at Keith like he was a mixture of annoyed and offended. “Saying I suck at driving or something?”

“No,” Keith said quickly. “Not at all… I just… It’s a practical question, right?”

Had he already messed up their date? From the look on Shiro’s face, Keith was leaning toward a solid _yes_.

“Do you even drive?” Shiro asked.

“Well, no, I don’t,” Keith admitted. Kolivan and Ulaz had yet to teach him to drive which was just one of the many tragedies of his teenage life. “I wasn’t insinuating anything, Shiro. I was just stating it because Ducati’s are expensive and if I wrecked my friend’s bike, I’d be fucked because of how much they cost. That’s all.”

“Well, not everyone has to worry about money, Keith.”

Shiro climbed out of the car and Keith followed suit so they could head inside but Shiro didn’t say anything else, not even when they were inside, seated in a booth by an old pinball machine, with menus in hand. Keith stared at the piece of laminated plastic helplessly, his heart racing from nerves. He really didn’t want to upset Shiro again but it was bound to happen since Keith knew he was most definitely an asshole loser.

Shiro deserved better than him.

“What kind of pizza do you like?” Shiro asked which was better than the silence from before.

“Um, I’ll eat almost anything,” Keith replied neutrally.

Shiro sighed and rolled his eyes a little. “That doesn’t help, Keith. I like pineapple on pizza, do you?”

“Oh… uh…. Not really.” He tried not to make a face but the thought of pineapple on pizza was gross and his nose wrinkled at the thought. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who eat anchovies on pizza, too?”

Shiro looked up at him sharply. “What if I am?” he asked. “Are you a pizza snob, too?”

Keith stammered and tried to think where he’d gone so wrong and what had turned Shiro’s good mood so sour. It couldn’t be the Ducati question because that would be ridiculous. “I’m sorry, what exactly did I do to make you so mad?”

Shiro shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as if it were all so obvious but Keith was missing out on some greater knowledge. “I just realized we’re very different people, that’s all.”

“Over… over _what_ ?” Keith asked as he tried to backtrack to where it all went wrong. “Because I don’t have money? You’re judging me because I’m _poor_?”

“I’m judging you because you’re a snob.”

Keith stammered and stared, completely taken aback to the point where no words would come in his own defense. Shiro’s face also seemed to change – he went from ice cold to something softer and full of surprise, like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d said either.

“Keith,” he said and dropped the menu in his hand to reach out a hand like he could make it better if they were touching. “I don’t know why I said that… What the fuck… I’m sorry. I don’t–  don’t think _any_ of that stuff.”

“Well, it clearly came from somewhere,” Keith snapped angrily.

“I’m serious. I’m so sorry. Fuck… Please, let me… uh... “ Shiro trailed off because their waitress arrived to take their order. “Whatever you want.”

Keith put the menu down. “I’m not hungry,” he lied through gritted teeth. His legs worked before his brain did and he walked out of the pizza place to start walking back home through the parking lot. He hadn’t wished for the date to go badly but somehow karma was playing a mean trick on him.

“Keith! Wait!” Shiro called behind him.

Keith did not wait. He walked stubbornly through the parking lot toward the sidewalk but then he felt Shiro’s hand wrap around his elbow but he refused to turn around. “Let me go, Shiro.”

“Keith, I’m so sorry. I’m serious. I don’t know what took over… It’s like some other guy was talking through me… I’m really, really sorry.” Shiro squeezed his elbow once but then let go, leaving Keith to decide if he wanted to walk away or stay.

The possibility that some magical thing had screwed up their date felt more and more likely even though Keith was still reluctant to believe in magic but _something_ had possessed Shiro to act like an ass. Had his magic rubbed off on Shiro somehow? His mood hadn’t been the greatest today with all of his new and strange revelations. Keith glanced back at Shiro, his eyes falling on the way the moonlight ringed him in soft, white light. The way his gray eyes shined and reflected silver. The long lashes that any mascara commercial would be envious of, framed the silver like the clouds above framed the moon. 

Shiro was beautiful and Keith was a fool to let him walk away.

“Sorry,” Keith said even though he wasn’t sure why he was apologizing.

“No, _I’m_ sorry,” Shiro said again pointedly. “You are great and smart and your questions are all valid. I don’t care that you don’t have money and I swear I don’t usually point out that I do.”

Keith believed him. This Shiro was the Shiro he knew. The real Shiro. The one he had a crush on that was as big as a NASA billboard and the one that had asked him out earlier in the week. This Shiro was too pure for the world.

“It’s okay. I’m having an off week, too,” Keith said. The understatement of the year but he couldn’t exactly explain his situation to Shiro without sounding like a lunatic.

“Do you still want pizza? Or we could go somewhere else. I’m up for anything.”

Keith hugged Shiro’s jacket close against a sudden whip of cold wind. He opened his mouth to reply that they could go back in for pizza because he was definitely starving when a voice he recognized filled his ears and dread filled his stomach.

“Keith Kogane, _what_ are you doing out here?” Ulaz demanded and Keith was too scared to turn around to look.

He knew if he turned around, Ulaz and Kolivan would be there, staring at him with disappointment. Hell, maybe they’d even brought their damn cat. The whole family, glaring at him like he was the biggest disappointment imaginable. Shiro looked like a deer in the headlights so Keith decided to turn around to look at the damage.

Ulaz and Kolivan stood by their car, which Keith realized too late they were standing almost in front of his uncle’s shop. Why they were out so late, Keith had no idea but of course, _of course_ , he had to be standing here talking to Shiro when he fully knew he was supposed to be at Lance’s house like he’d told his uncles he would be.

Grounded probably didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Uh… hey,” Keith said lamely. “What are you guys doing here so late?”

“Funny,” Ulaz said his voice like ice. “I was going to ask you the same thing. Get in the car, Keith, we’re going home.”

Keith glanced toward Shiro apologetically but climbed into the car without another arguing word, despite how embarrassed he felt to the core. His uncles always knew when to show up and mess up his entire life. They were so uncanny about fucking things up for him. Kolivan drove them away from where Shiro still stood on the sidewalk and Keith shut his eyes, wishing things would go back to normal but nothing changed. They drove to the house and Keith was ushered inside and sat down in the living room while Kolivan and Ulaz stood over him with disappointed stares.

He supposed this was as close to normal as Keith could hope for so he supposed this wish had come true, too.

“What were doing with that boy?” Kolivan asked.

“We were on a date,” Keith admitted angrily. He realized then he was still wearing Shiro’s letterman jacket and he was suddenly burning up so he shrugged it off. “It’s not that big of a deal, okay?”

“Curfew is–,” Ulaz started but Keith cut him off with an eye roll so strong it made his neck roll. “Don’t you roll your eyes at me.”

“I’m almost eighteen,” Keith pointed out. “I can stay out later than before! Can’t you guys just trust me now and again?”

He hated being treated like he was a child still when he was almost considered a legal adult. Why couldn’t they just cut him some slack?

“Considering you lied to us, I would say _trust_ is not something you should be talking about right now,” Kolivan pointed out. “And, Keith, we need to tell you something else. Something important.”

“What?” Keith asked, leaning back against the couch stubbornly, his arms crossed over his chest.

“We’ve been asking you questions lately, I’m sure you’ve been wondering why,” Kolivan started out slowly. “About dreams and wishes and… other things.”

“Yeah,” Keith said slowly.

“The reason we’ve been asking because there is something about our family that you don’t know.” Kolivan glanced at Ulaz and Ulaz looked just as apprehensive but then Red was there, jumping up to sit on the coffee table.

“Hey Red,” Keith said quietly.

Red then did something Keith had assumed he’d made up. She spoke. “You’re a witch,” Red said.

“Red, damn it,” Kolivan groaned.

“You were both taking too long,” Red snapped back. “You’re a witch, Keith, and so are they. Your whole family, actually. Well, except your father.”

“Red,” Kolivan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We were going to ease him into this.”

“He overheard it the other night anyway,” Red replied. She hopped from the table to Keith’s lap to look up at him, placing her paws on his chest so they were now eye to eye. “You’re terrible at spying, Keith.”

The cat was talking.

The cat was talking.

The cat was talking.

Red, his loveable black cat, was speaking like she was Salem from _Sabrina_. He was a witch. His whole family except his father? He’d never met his father, at least, not to his own memory. He hardly had any memories of his mother, father, family, anyone except Ulaz and Kolivan. Were they even really his uncles? There were so many questions and Keith wasn’t sure where to start but his immediate response was denial despite all of the evidence.

“No,” he said and shoved Red off of his lap before vaulting off of the couch and backing up toward the front door. “ _No_. This isn’t real. I’m dreaming.”

“Keith, please,” Ulaz said, reaching out his hands tentatively. “Haven’t you wondered why things were coming true? Haven’t you made wishes lately and they just _happen_ to come true, even if it’s not the way you expected?”

“And your dreams,” Kolivan pointed out. “Have you not had strange dreams? Dreams of flight and other oddities that don’t quite make sense?”

Keith stammered because none of this could be true, even though in his heart he knew it _was_ all true. He wasn’t just the freak who wore black and drew pictures, no, he was the _ultimate_ freak. The kind of freak featured in horror movies and Halloween spoofs. His cat could talk and _no one_ would believe him about any of this.

“No,” he said again. “ _No, no, no, no_.”

“Keith–,” Ulaz began but Keith cut him off quickly.

“I wish you would just _shut up_!” he screamed, even though if he’d known what happened next, he wouldn’t have said anything at all.

Ulaz went to speak again but his voice did not come, instead, he began to gasp for air as his lips turned blue and he clawed at his throat. Kolivan turned in alarm, reaching out to hold him steady but Ulaz couldn’t breathe. Kolivan was muttering things, things Keith didn’t understand, but nothing was helping. Ulaz slid down to his knees, still struggling to breathe, and Keith stared in utter alarm.

He’d done that.

He’d wished Ulaz to shut up and now he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe and it was all Keith’s fault. The shock washed over Keith in waves of horror until he blinked and suddenly Ulaz could breathe again. The spell was broken and he watched Ulaz drag in deep, needed breaths, trying to bring in as much oxygen as he could now that he’d had his cut off for a dangerously long time. Both of his uncles turned their worried gaze on him and Keith recognized the fear in their eyes. The kind of fear humans had for beasts they could not tame and did not know how to handle.

Keith saw their fear and felt rejection slap him hard across the face.

Horror still giving him enough adrenaline to run, Keith turned and ran down the hallway to the front door and out into the night. He ran as fast as his legs would allow even though his ankle screamed for him to stop but he pushed through the pain. He ran without thinking or knowing where he was going, he ran until a stitch in his side almost made him fall over, and his ankle gave out beneath him. He ran until he tripped and wrapped his fingers through a plastic coated heavy chain and he realized he’d run straight to the park he used to play on as a child.

The swing set kept him from falling face first into dirty mulch and Keith dragged his tired body to sit on the swing helplessly as he regained his breath. The galloping of his heart was the only thing that kept him fully aware he was alive and not dreaming again. This was reality and he’d almost killed his uncle.

As Keith sat on the swing, he began to long for someone to come help him, to make this all make sense. He wanted someone to understand and to make him feel as if he were not completely out of his mind. He wanted comfort. He wanted a hug. He wanted–.

“Keith?”

Shiro.

Keith jerked his head up and his gaze fell on Shiro’s handsome face. He was standing right in front of him like he’d always meant to be there.

“Are you okay?” Shiro asked slowly.

“No,” Keith whispered and then tears began to work their way up and out of his body. He sobbed in a way he hadn’t sobbed since he’d lost his first dog. His fingers wrapped in Shiro’s shirt and he cried into Shiro’s chest helplessly.

Shiro, to his credit, said nothing and only wrapped his arms around Keith to hold him close instead. He let Keith cry until there was nothing left except hiccups and gasps. Shiro was the comfort he’d needed and once Keith finally fell silent, Shiro allowed himself to speak.

“What’s wrong, Keith? What happened?”

“My uncles took me home and they told me… they told me I’m a witch,” Keith whispered even though he felt crazy saying it. “Like my life is actually some crazy Harry Potter novel. They told me I’m a witch and I can make things happen and I didn’t… I didn’t want to believe it and then–.” He trailed off so he could regain his composure. Even thinking about what he’d done to Ulaz was enough to send him into hysterics again.

“And then, what?” Shiro prompted gently like Keith _wasn’t_ spewing total nonsense.

“I said… I said, ‘I wish you’d just shut up’ and then… and then Ulaz couldn’t _breathe_. And when I realized what had happened, it stopped, but they looked at me so afraid. LIke I was some untamed, wild animal and they weren’t sure what I’d do to them,” Keith whispered, his gaze watering with unshed tears.

“Sounds intense,” Shiro said evenly.

“It was… Do you believe me? Or do you think I’m nuts?”

“I believe you,” Shiro said and then shifted so he could sit on the swing beside Keith instead.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“But it’s crazy, right? Magic? Witches? It’s all crazy…” Keith shook his head, trying to make sense of it all. He shoved his hair out of his face as he struggled to figure out why Shiro was so calm. “I can’t believe you’re so calm about this. Are _you_ a witch?”

Shiro chuckled. “No, I’m not a witch,” he replied with a small smile.  “I’ve just always believed in that kind of stuff, that’s all. I believe in ghosts and demons and spirits. Stuff like that… so, why not witches?”

The desert surrounding them couldn’t hold a candle to how dry Keith’s mouth felt while he sat there and took in everything Shiro said so calmly and rationally. _He_ should have been the witch, maybe then there wouldn’t have been such an almost disaster at the house tonight.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t think I’m crazy,” Keith said quietly. “You won’t… tell anyone about this, right? I don’t want people having _more_ reasons to think I’m fucking weird.”  

Shiro shook his head. “No, I won’t say anything.”

“Because you secretly think I’m crazy?”

“Because you asked me not to.”

Shiro really was perfect. Keith leaned over and pressed a tentative kiss on Shiro’s cheek before darting away as fast as he’d done it. Shiro’s fingers reached up to touch his cheek in wonder.

“Wow,” Shiro whispered and then he smirked. “Keith Kogane kisses on first dates.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Keith said and gave Shiro a push.

Shiro laughed and pushed Keith back. For a moment, everything felt normal. There were no witches or magic or scary spells that would almost kill people. For a moment, it was just Keith and Shiro having a good time at a park under the moonlight. For a moment, Keith was able to forget. The moment ended quickly, however, when Keith saw Shiro’s watch flash the time.

It was almost one in the morning and he most certainly needed to go home before Kolivan and Ulaz came after him. That is _if_ they still wanted him at all. Shiro was kind and they walked back to his Jeep, where Shiro gave him a ride home. Keith even leaned over to kiss his cheek again which made Shiro blush.

“So, maybe we can go on another date sometime?” Shiro asked as Keith eased out of the car.

“Maybe, once I’m not grounded,” Keith pointed out and shut the door.

Shiro waved and waited for Keith to open the door and go inside before leaving. Keith watched Shiro drive away until his Jeep was gone and he had no choice but to shut the door and slowly walk through the house to find Kolivan and Ulaz again.

They were both sitting at the kitchen table, drinking tea, looking worn out and exhausted. Red was sitting on the table too, her tail twitching in annoyance. Keith approached slowly and when Ulaz saw him, Keith saw his uncle flinch. To say the gesture hurt was an understatement. Keith felt pain and fear – they were going to give him away like he was the garbage on Tuesday’s. It hurt.

“Keith,” Kolivan said as he set his cup down. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Keith replied dully. His voice stayed monotone and flat because he worried if he showed too much emotion he would cry again. “I was just told my family is a bunch of witches and I am, too, and I almost killed my uncle. How do you think I’m doing?”

“It was an accident,” Kolivan argued gently. “Right, Ulaz?”

Ulaz nodded but Keith could see he was not convinced. Did Ulaz honestly believe he’d _meant_ to hurt him? Keith took a few steps back, to keep his distance.

“Keith,” Kolivan began slowly, his voice tired and heavy. Clearly, he’d been working his way up to this moment. “Our family, the Marmora’s, are a long line of witches… Your mother… my sister… She met your father, a human, and fell in love but at the time humans and witches were not meant to consummate or fall in love. But Krolia had her own wishes and desires and never gave a damn about the witch’s council. Obviously, you are the product of that forbidden union.”

Keith crossed his arms over his chest. “Where are they now?”

Kolivan looked down as if he were in pain. “The witch’s council was enraged by your mother’s insolence. They told her that she could give up her powers and live her days, as a mortal, with her husband or she could watch her husband and son die.”

Keith stared, his eyebrows going up in surprise. “What?” he whispered.

“Krolia obviously chose to become human. You were given to us because if you manifested powers in her care… It may not have gone well for your mother or father. So, we took you in,” Kolivan continued. “We tried to raise you normally, since you are half human. We actually thought you were going to _stay_ human and hadn’t inherited any powers at all but then… you bloomed later in life.”

“Like puberty?” Keith asked.

“Sort of,” Kolivan said with a nod. “You started showing signs around fifteen or sixteen. Then this year you’ve seemed to speed up quite a bit. Your powers are coming faster than we were prepared to tell you about them. I’m sorry it took us so long to explain the truth about us and you… I’m sure you have a ton of questions.”

Keith did have a ton of questions but still watching Ulaz sip his tea, not make eye contact, and seem afraid made them all die on his tongue. He shook his head and headed for the back stairs. “I’m tired,” he replied quietly. “I’m just going to go to bed. I can… ask in the morning.”

“Of course,” Kolivan replied.

Keith went upstairs without another word. His room, one of the only places he truly felt at home, wrapped him up in its arms and led him to lying on his bed facedown. His fingers slid underneath his pillow as he slowly removed a dagger his mother had bestowed upon him at an early age. The hilt was wrapped in a tan cloth to cover up the symbol engraved in a stone for decoration. Keith had never asked what the symbol meant but now he was curious if it were some type of magical rune.

The blade itself was plain steel, sharp from the amount of times Keith had used a whetstone to keep it from dulling. He’d brought it to school, once, but had been reprimanded by the principal and suspended for bringing a weapon on school grounds. After that, Kolivan had taken the blade until Keith had grown up enough to know he couldn’t take it to school with him. Now, he left it beneath his pillow. Along with the knife was a photograph, the only photograph he had of his family. He’d found it in a box in the attic and had hidden it away so Kolivan didn’t know he had it.

The picture, faded and sun-splotched, contained a much younger Kolivan and Ulaz and by their side stood a woman who had enough similarities to Kolivan that Keith could only assume she was his mother. Next to her stood another man, his jaw strong and a scar across his brow bone. Keith assumed that was his father but he’d never met either of them. This was the only evidence he had of even having parents.

Keith stared at the picture and held it to his chest. His mother hadn’t left him because she didn’t want him. She’d left him to save his and his father’s life. Even though he now knew the truth, the rejection and abandonment did not make him feel any better. Especially now when Ulaz feared him.

Keith settled down under his duvet cover and stuffed the blade and picture back underneath his pillow. Tomorrow would be a new day and maybe he would gain more answers.

Maybe, he’d wake up tomorrow and all of this would be only a bad dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell @ me on [tumblr](http://pining-sheith.tumblr.com/).


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